


Unwelcome Tagalong

by untouchableface



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Dragon Age II Quest - The Deep Roads Expedition, Drinking, F/M, Jealousy, Pre-Relationship, Purple Hawke (Dragon Age), Regret, The Hanged Man (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23091889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/untouchableface/pseuds/untouchableface
Summary: Things weren't always what they seemed, until they were far worse than what she had first thought. And no matter how much Hawke hated being right, being left was far worse than she had ever imagined.--aka, the same evening told from two very different points of view: Hawke and Bethany.
Relationships: Bethany Hawke & Female Hawke, Bethany Hawke & Varric Tethras, Female Hawke/Varric Tethras, Hawke/Varric Tethras
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

It was almost criminal, how near the two of them sat. From clear across the bar, Hawke could see how _intimately_ close Bethany and Varric were to one another, as she ordered another round from Corff - who didn't seem to notice or care at all about said closeness. It was rude, really, that nobody else seemed at all bothered by this sudden turn of events.

Her younger sister leaned in to whisper something to Varric, and Hawke felt their casual proximity as sharply as a knife in her gut. Which, admittedly, had actually happened a couple of days earlier, mostly out of sloppiness - though thankfully, Anders had been there to deal with the worst of it, and the wound itself had been healed. Mostly. If anything, Hawke found herself wishing for more of a jagged scar or visible injury pick at, if for nothing else than a distraction to her current source of pain.

The worst part was, she had done it to protect him. Idiot. A rogue from the street gang they had been fighting had maneuvered behind him, and Hawke had rushed to intercept what might have been a killing blow. She was pretty sure - in her half-delirious, bleeding-out state - that Varric had called her his Champion, for her selfless act of heroism... but now, the words rang hollow in her memory. He had previously admitted that he was a liar, remember? The praise was surely superficial at best. He had just been glad to not be stabbed, there was no particular fondness for who or what had taken the blow on his behalf.

Marian Hawke did not deal well with crushes. Which were aptly named, she mused bitterly, as they were good for crushing any positive thoughts or hopes she might have, but not much good for anything else... at least not when it came to anything practical. It wasn't like she had told Bethany about her growing feelings for the dwarf. Nor could she lay claim to someone who - so very clearly - had no interest in her, beyond "business partner". He was fair game, and it was pretty clear that he fancied her sister over her. Just like everyone else did. She should be used to that feeling by now, but somehow, this particular situation stung more than any other... it felt like a betrayal of sorts, but Hawke couldn't say exactly why.

"Oh, I forgot. Three shots of your best whiskey, too. On his tab." By some stroke of good luck, Varric looked up and Bethany waved to Hawke at just that moment. Hawke waved back as she forced a grin, and Corff took the exchange as assent. It was his mistake, but she was more than willing to capitalize on it.

Corff poured the shots, and turned to serve the next customer. Within seconds, Hawke downed all three, and scooped up the mugs of ale before taking her time crossing the bar back to their table. Drinking made her _nicer_ , and she was fairly sure that all other parties involved would forget the incident within minutes, if they had been paying attention at all. She would like to forget what she had just seen, too, but that would take substantially more liquor. As bad as she was at handling crushes, she was worse when it came to navigating straight-up jealousy.

"So what were you two plotting in my absence?" Hawke forced another grin. Less than sober though she was, she couldn't help but notice that Varric looked a bit like a mabari who had disobeyed a direct order from his master. "Or am I just an unwelcome tagalong in whatever scheme you're scheming?" She tried to soften it with a wink, but the words still came out more harshly than she intended.

A shadow of something flickered across Bethany's face. Her sister was a terrible liar at the best of times, and her reaction all but confirmed to Hawke her earlier suspicion. So much for Varric's protests that "humans have too much leg" or whatever he had said. Hawke hated being right so often. Clearly the two of them were into each other, and who was she to stand in the way?

"We're not plotting anything!" Yep, Bethany had sure mastered that wide-eyed, innocent, naive look. Another thing Hawke failed at in comparison - nobody would ever mistake her as being naive, or someone in need of protecting. She loved her sister, but sometimes she couldn't help but resent her all the same.

"Sunshine here was just reminding me that, uh, I owe you for saving my arse the other day." Never had Varric's Maker-damned pet names grated on Hawke more than at this very moment, maybe because she was the only one he didn't seem to care enough to give a nickname to. And never had she seen him be more sloppy in telling a lie. But, fine, she would play along with the ruse.

"Oh? And what, praytell serrah, do you intend for my reward? A bottle of Corff's finest Tevinter red? Perhaps some new armour? Your hand in marriage?" Hawke guffawed loudly and pounded her fist on the table, over-selling the joke while sloshing their mugs of ale - with one landing squarely in her sister's lap. Oops.

"Easy there, Chuckles." Varric snagged a rag from Edwina, who happened to be passing by, and passed it to Bethany so she could mop the worst of it up.

"You could definitely use better armour," Bethany agreed. Hawke couldn't help but notice the undertone of sadness in her little sister's voice. Shit. She hadn't meant to hurt her... but she had gone too far. Again.

"Sorry, Bethy." Hawke was sorry, for what it was worth. Sorry they had to flee to this shithole of a city and live with their shitty uncle. Sorry that neither of them seemed to ever get to be too happy or too comfortable for too long. Sorry that she resented her sister for something - or rather, someone - who could probably take care of her, and would probably make disgustingly adorable children with. "You can have mine if you want, I think I'm gonna head home."

//

"Hawke -" Varric's pleas did little to shake her from her daze. "Say something? Please? Or I'm just going to keep talking. Um... you have to know what she told me that night at the Hanged Man, the night you stormed off... She begged me to take care of you. To not let you get hurt for my sake ever again. Hawke, I'm so sorry. I would trade Bartrand's useless nug-humping life in a second for hers if I could."

Hawke remained frozen, staring into the darkness where the Wardens had disappeared with her sister some minutes or hours before.

Varric pressed on. He had never seen Hawke quite like this before, and her stillness terrified him. He took her hand in his, and pressed her chafed knuckles to his lips. "Shit. I'm not good at this kind of thing, Hawke. Bethany... she told me that... that you love me... Hawke?"

Hawke took his hand in hers, but turned to look anywhere but at his face. This was not happening, not now. Too little too late. "Just... don't. Let's go. I never should have let her come along."


	2. The Other Side of The Table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! A second chapter of the same, from Bethany's POV.

"I'll get the next round!"

Bethany watched her sister stand from the table and stride confidently across the bar. It had been a rough week for the both of them, and the _incident_ from the other day had left at least Bethany shaken. She hadn't been there during the ambush to watch her sister's back - thankfully though, Anders was, and he had probably saved Hawke's life by being in the right place at the right time. 

He told her privately, later, how much blood Hawke had lost, and it drove Bethany mad with worry to see her older sister being so reckless. But Hawke didn't talk about her feelings, not the way Bethany and their mother did. She knew that telling her sister how worried she was about her would just result in Hawke making some offhand joke and probably purposely getting herself into another fight, just to show how not-worried everyone else should be about her. 

So, it was safe to say that an emotional heart-to-heart was off the table. Never mind addressing the elephant in the room with her sister - or, more precisely, addressing the issue of one very specific dwarf. Bethany wasn't sure, exactly, where Varric stood when it came to her sister. She also wasn't sure if Varric was aware of how Hawke felt about him. Or if Hawke was consciously aware of how she clearly felt about the dwarf. But Bethany knew her sister painfully well, and she was about to get to the bottom of it all before Hawke did something even more stupid - and really, when it came to her older sister, there were no shortage of reckless decisions to be made. 

Not wanting anyone else to overhear, Bethany leaned in to whisper to Varric. "I hear my sister got stabbed quite _impressively_ the other day." 

Varric flinched, looking extremely guilty. She'd caught him in a rare moment of truth. _Good_ , Bethany thought. "Sunshine, I'm sorry. That knife was meant for me, not her." 

Bethany leaned even closer, her lips almost touching the dwarf's ear. "Don't let it happen again." She said the words simply, quietly, but the ice behind them was palpable. She liked Varric well enough, but Hawke was _family_.

Varric nodded. "Trust me, I don't intend to." 

Knowing how unpredictable the service at the Hanged Man could be, Bethany stole a glance toward the bar. Hawke hadn't quite gotten their drinks yet, and her attention seemed to be elsewhere in the bar, for the moment anyway. "Alright..." She fixed her gaze more intently on the dwarf. Time for the absolute truth. "Do you care about her?" 

"Hawke?" Varric spoke her name a little too quietly. "She and you are my favourite business partners. And I would be devastated if I wasn't her favourite dwarf - or at least the most handsome one she knows." The Tethras grin and swagger would have fooled almost anyone else, but his body betrayed him ever so slightly as he glanced toward Hawke, and their eyes met. 

Bethany looked up, and saw Hawke staring over at the two of them, Corff behind her pouring drinks that were presumably theirs. She smiled widely in return, and elbowed Varric, who waved a little too cheerily. Hawke waved back with a grin.

There was no time for Bethany to interrogate him properly. "We'll talk more about this later, Varric. But know that this conversation isn't over and that I don't mean simply caring about her as a friend." Keeping that same casual grin plastered on her face while patting him on the knee, Bethany watched as Hawke picked her way back to their table. Her more serious tone shifted back to one far more chipper - the one that had earned her nickname. "So, about the Expedition, in the meantime..." 

"So what were you two plotting in my absence? Or am I just an unwelcome tagalong in whatever scheme you're scheming?" Hawke set the mugs down with another grin and a wink. There was an edge to her tone that Bethany couldn't quite place, but she knew that _something_ was wrong... something that hadn't been wrong when Hawke had left the table. Maybe some idiot had said the wrong thing to her? But nobody in the bar had been stabbed - at least, not that Bethany could see - which meant that something else had to be irritating the elder Hawke. 

"We're not plotting anything!" Technically, it was true. And Bethany knew that aside from whatever was going on, Hawke would be furious with her for at least a few hours if she found out that she had been meddling in her (potential) love life. Or, you know, her safety and continued existence. Maybe both. Even if it really was for her own good. Bethany was about to say that they were talking about the Expedition, but Varric jumped in.

"Sunshine here was just reminding me that, uh, I owe you for saving my arse the other day." Bethany glanced over at Varric. She was sure she could see the guilt on his face - in a weird way, it made her feel a little better, knowing that Varric wouldn't have that kind of reaction if he didn't genuinely care about Hawke's well-being. 

"Oh? And what, praytell serrah, do you intend for my reward? A bottle of Corff's finest Tevinter red? Perhaps some new armour? Your hand in marriage?" As Hawke took her blatant flirting to a ridiculous level, her hand slipped and she knocked over one of the very full mugs she'd just finished bringing back. Bethany could almost see the accident as it was happening, but her reflexes were just a bit too slow. Now her lap was soaked, and somehow the ale was far stickier than any beer had a right to be.

Thankfully, Varric was already offering her a rag, which he seemed to have pulled from nowhere. "Easy there, Chuckles." The rag was next to useless at drying, but at least she could use it to relocate the beer to the floor.

"You could definitely use better armour," Bethany piped in, thinking again of the situation that Hawke had been in earlier that week. She wondered what it would take to talk Varric into getting new armor for her sister - while he seemed to love slumming it with them in Lowtown, she could tell that he had more money than he let on. Maybe she could convince him it would be a good business expense.

"Sorry, Bethy." Hawke was... sad, now? Bethany knew she had definitely missed something, but she wasn't sure what. Unless Hawke had been less sober than she let on, in which case the frequent mood fluctuations could almost make sense. "You can have mine if you want, I think I'm gonna head home."

Before Bethany could answer, Hawke turned on her heel and practically _fled_ from the bar. Bethany stared after her for a moment, before glancing over at Varric. He looked as confused as she was.

"Important Hawke business?" He quipped.

"Must be, if she's turning down drinks on your tab." Bethany matched his light tone for a moment, before shifting back to their earlier conversation. 

"Now, Varric, as I was saying earlier..." 


End file.
